Insomnia
by CaityJH
Summary: I can hear them in the walls.
1. Chapter I

_Disclaimers: S.E. Hinton owns The Outsiders._

 _A/N: Here it is._

* * *

 **Insomnia**

Chapter I

* * *

I can hear them in the walls.

They whisper and scratch on the wooden panels between the walls of our little home. They moan and they groan.

I don't know who they are.

I can't pick out the voices. They're raspy and distorted, cracking and unbalanced, no melody present.

They plague my dreams. They whisper things in my ear while I sleep. I can't understand what they say. They don't sound happy. Don't sound safe and welcoming.

I don't like them.

I don't sleep anymore. Every night they get louder, their whispers more desperate and angry. They taunt me each time I shut my eyes, getting closer and closer.

Sodapop knows I don't sleep. He worries. I want to tell him about the terrifying voices, I want to tell him he _should_ be worried, that I'm scared out of my wits. But I can't. They'll hurt him if I do. They told me. So I tell him I'm fine, knowing he doesn't believe me, and I move back into my own room.

But being alone makes it worse. They get louder, and louder, and I wish I had Sodapop to cuddle into for protection.

I blame the Socs. I blame the fountain, when they drowned me. I blame the rumble, when they kicked me in the head, giving me a concussion.

Yes, that's it. It's just the concussion. Just my mind playing tricks on me.

Somehow, I know it's not.

It's not the Socs. It's me. It's _them_.

I'm tired. So overwhelmingly tired. But no, I can't sleep. I won't. They race up to me in my sleep. I'm vulnerable then. They're already so close...

I hear them in the walls.

I hear them under my bed.

I hear them in the drain.

I hear them in the attic.

They're everywhere.

"You have to sleep, Ponyboy."

Darry doesn't understand. None of them do. I _can't_ go to sleep.

I shake my head.

"Come on. You're practically dead on your feet. We know you haven't slept in days."

 _No,_ I tell him.

"He's right kiddo. You can't do this to yourself. It's not good for you."

I want to tell Sodapop that _they_ are not good for me, that _sleep_ isn't good for me. I say no again.

"No arguments. Bed, Ponyboy. Go to sleep. Now."

Darry's voice is stern and demanding, but it doesn't effect me. It's not _his_ voice I'm afraid of.

 _No._

My brothers sigh, and the leave the room. I switch the TV on, making sure my brain stays active and my eyelids remain open. I try to eavesdrop and overhear on Darry and Soda's conversation in the kitchen, but _their_ voices are too loud. I can only make out a few scattered words from the kitchen.

"Darry ... Can't ..."

"Dad ... Safe ..."

"Not ..."

"Pale ... sick ... doctor ..."

"Fine ..."

Minutes later they return to the living room, carrying three cups of hot chocolate. Darry hands me one, and I notice Sodapop watching me as he took his seat on the other side of the couch.

I think the drink will do me good. Distract me a little, maybe.

It tastes different. Maybe Soda added too much sugar or milk.

I drink it anyway.

It isn't long until my eyelids get heavy. My limbs get weak and my mouth goes dry. I fee both my brother's gaze as I attempt to keep my eyes open, failing miserably.

The voices are louder.

 _NoNoNoNoNoNo_

This can't happen. I can't go to sleep. Why am I going to sleep?

I feel Sodapop's soft arms around me, guiding my body to lay down on the couch, stretching out my legs.

Darry comes with a blanket, gently spreading it out on top of me.

The voices get closer.

 _What's happening?_

"I'm sorry, Pone. But you got to sleep. It's not healthy. You'll hurt yourself, kiddo."

 _Darry? What did you do?_

But I can't speak. Can't move.

My eyelids are anchors.

Soda smooths my hair back, shushing me.

"Go to sleep now, Honey."

 _No!_

But my eyelids drop, firmly closing shut.

I can't reopen them.

The voices get louder.

And louder.

And louder.

They're coming.

I hear them in the walls.

I hear them in the TV.

I hear them under the couch.

I hear them in the blanket.

I hear them in my ears.

 _They're here._

* * *

 _Did I scare you?_


	2. Chapter II

_A/N: Insomnia was originally planned and written as a oneshot. I was not expecting to get so many reviews on it as it was written completely out of the blue, but surprisingly, many of you wanted a story out of it. I thought about it, but I could never come up with an interesting plot that I would like enough to keep up with._

 _And then there's this. Chapter two is completely written out of the blue, as well. I have a storyline in my head, but I cannot promise if and how frequently I will update. Life has been hectic._

 _Therefore, thank you to everyone who left a review on chapter one of Insomnia, you have successfully persuaded me into writing a second chapter. ;)_

* * *

 **Insomnia**

Chapter II

* * *

The darkness is overwhelming. It's as if I'm floating in a sea of paralyzing black, the light just a memory or a figment of my imagination, like it was never even there. I try to move my head, my arms, my legs, but it doesn't work - they're not there, I'm just simply floating, _existing_ in the never-ending darkness of my mind.

To make matters worse, I'm not alone.

They're everywhere, the voices. Ear-piercing shouting, quite whispers, soft mumbles, deep, booming screams, all jumbled together into multiple voices, so unclear yet so very vivid that I can almost, _almost_ see the speakers within the shadows.

They yell and they whisper and they shriek and they murmur, but I can't pick out what they're saying. They just speak, exist with me in this place. And I want to scream too, 'cause it's driving me crazy, terrifying me out of my wits, but I just . . . can't. In the darkness, I have no voice.

But I still want to try, anything that could possibly rid me of the voices, but suddenly I really _am_ floating. I can feel my body, still in total blackness, but floating above thick, freezing liquid, slick across my back like oil.

I twist my head, using my arms to keep me afloat as I try to see. Still no light.

The crazy part, however, is that the voices are gone.

Gone, like another figment of my imagination and I feel my mouth curve into a smile. How long has it been, now? Going on three weeks? Three weeks and it's the first time it's been quiet. _Really_ quiet. No voices, no shrieks or screams or whispers. No deafening shouts all around me, plaguing my every thought and action.

They're _gone._

I tip my head back, let the oily liquid spread across my hairline and forehead as I let out a long sigh. I relax, enjoying the moment I never thought I'd witness again.

Unfortunately, it doesn't last long.

Mere seconds pass and I hear the shouting, shockingly louder and more intense than before, parading my brain like a disease. I scream, dig my fingers into my temples but suddenly I'm being pushed down, down down down beneath the surface of the oil. Rough, merciless hands hold my head and scrambling limbs down as I fight for dominance, my lungs aching with the vacancy of air.

I scream, feeling the thick black liquid rush down my throat as I drown. The voices laugh, mocking me and my weakness.

It's a horrible feeling to drown. My lungs contract, automatically making me breathe in more oil, burning my throat as it fills my chest. I feel my eyes roll back, my limbs twitch, hands and voices still holding me under. I'm about to lose consciousness, let the darkness consume me, but then it's there.

The light.

XXXX

"Hey, get the light, would you, Dar'?"

"I got it. He still hasn't woken up?"

"I don't know, he sure is squirming though, I think he might be coming around."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, come see."

I hear movement, feel a soft, firm touch against my forehead and I know immediately that it is Darry.

"Ponyboy? You getting up any time soon?"

I moan. It's all I can do, a strange tiredness pulling me down into the mattress, gluing my eyelids shut and paralyzing my limbs. It's weird - confusing.

What happened?

"He's still pretty out of it." Soda says whilst running a gentle hand through my hair.

"Yeah..."

"Maybe we shouldn't have -"

"No, we had to."

"But-"

"We _had_ to, Sodapop. He needs the sleep, he's been up for days. You know that."

I manage to move a finger, grip the blanket beneath me. I moan again, fighting hard to open my eyes, to become full aware. What are they talking about? There's a loud pause as my brothers seemingly recognize my struggle, and I feel Darry's hand again on my arm, reassurance.

"Lets take this outside. Let him sleep."

What? No, don't leave.

"Yeah. Get some rest, kiddo."

No. No, I can't. I grip the blanket harder, the faint memory of my nightmare plaguing my thoughts. I want to scream out, beg my brothers not to leave, to keep talking, keep me awake, but my mouth does not cooperate with me.

I hear their footsteps, the soft shut of the door (who's bedroom am I in?) and soft chatter getting quieter and quieter as they move further away from me. I groan, feeling the urge to curse this strong fatigue. I start to sweat. To tremble.

I can't sleep. I can't go through that again. I _won't._ No.

I wiggle my toes, bring each finger to my thumb, scrunch my nose, but I just cannot open my eyes.

Come on.

 _Come on._

 _Open._ _Just open._

And then one does. My left, opening to a tiny slit, captures the little amount of light in my bedroom, and I immediately want to shut it again. It's dark in here. It's dark in here and my brothers aren't around, it's dark and the blinds are closed and the door is shut and I'm alone and I can't see and-

I breathe out, my lips trembling. Just breathe. _Breathe._

I open my eye again, this time my right opening to a small slit with it, and I look around. I'm in mine and Soda's bedroom. Definitely mine and Soda's. My desk is to my right, the door to my left, the dresser at the foot of the bed. It's so dark.

It's so so dark and I'm afraid. So afraid I start to cry, tears unwillingly begin falling down into my hairline, my lips and body still quivering with the wave of fear.

Soda? Darry? I look around, each turn of my eye more nervous than the next, intent that something or someone unpleasant will be at the next view. Paranoia wrecks my body and thoughts, practically oozing out of me like liquid.

It's so dark in here, and I can't hear Sodapop or Darry's muffled voices anymore. They couldn't have left me, could they?

No, they wouldn't do that.

They _couldn't._

Soda? Darry? I try to speak their names but my voice doesn't work, the silence choking me from the inside out. Tears freely flow down my temples and my breathing quickens as I hyperventilate. My trembling fingers grip the blankets with unfamiliar strength as I inaudibly yell for help.

Somebody help me!

My eyes scan the room rapidly, everything a blur as tears flood around them. The silence is deafening - the only sound my muffled struggles and anxious heartbeat flooding my ears. My breath comes out in pants, oxygen unable to get into my lungs.

I can't _breathe._

helpmehelpmehelpmehelpmehelpmehelpme

I squeeze my eyes shut and I think - no I _know -_ I'm going to die here, alone and in silence, drowned by my tears and the darkness around me. My brothers are going to have to bury me with mom and dad and Soda's going to sleep in here alone and I won't graduate or go to college or marry and-

And then I hear them. Quiet at first. Then loud.

Oh so loud.

I open my eyes, try to pinpoint the source of them, but I can't. They're just _there._ There like they always have been, always will, filling my ears with their whispers and moans and screams.

They've followed me, out of my dream and back, haunting me with their voices, slowly killing me with fear. They're back, like they never left.

They groan, whisper, the sounds terrifyingly anonymous, ruining my last shred of stability. My body shakes so much it's close to full on convulsions, and my teeth threaten to break as they clash together.

I can't do this anymore.

Fear completely takes over and I open my mouth to scream.

Open wide, Ponyboy.

This time, it works. A vicious scream erupts from my stomach, the voices so loud I can hardly hear it. But I feel it. I scream and scream and scream until my throat runs hoarse, pain radiating throughout my throat but I don't stop.

I just keep on screaming.

Even when the door bursts open and the light is finally turned on, I still scream.

The blankets are ripped off me, and I'm lifted up off my back, sweat soaking my shirt, my mouth tall as I scream.

There's yelling, soft, firm arms around me, holding me, and I know immediately that it is Darry. I scream into his chest.

Gentle hands rub circles on my sweaty back and smooth my hair, it's Soda. I squeeze my eyes shut, still screaming, my voice now just a painful squeak.

I scream, and scream, and scream.

And when I'm carried to Darry's truck, the hospital in route, I'm still screaming.

XXXX

* * *

 _Disclaimers: I do not own The Outsiders._


End file.
